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BOMBASTES FURIOSO: | 

a SurteijBFCtagtc <©pera. 

£ 'PROPMTY OF TEE 
^FBBABY OF COUfGSESS 
WILLIAM BARNES RHODES. 

WITH 

EIGHT DESIGNS 

BY 

GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. 




LONDON : 

THOMAS RODD, GREAT NEWPORT STREET; AND 
T. GRIFFITHS, WELLINGTON STREET, STRAND. 

MDCCCXXX. 



Price Is. 6d. 



♦ 

9 
* 

4 



£*»(&<»«#- 



A few Copies on India Paper, price 3s. 



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BOMBASTES FURIOSO 

% JSurteque Cvagtc <©pera. 

BY 

WILLIAM BARNES RHODES. 
WITH DESIGNS 

BY 

GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. 




LONDON : 

THOMAS RODD, GREAT NEWPORT STREET ; AND 
T. GRIFFITHS, WELLINGTON STREET, STRAND. 

MDCCCXXX. 



, f?7 E 

3d 






WILLIAM BARNES RHODES, the Author of the following 
humorous and very popular piece, was second son of Richard 
and Mercy Rhodes, of Leeds, in which town he was born on 
Christmas day, 1772. He received a suitable education to 
qualify him for mercantile pursuits, and, after leaving school, 
was for some time employed as writer in an attorney's 
office. When about the age of twenty-seven, he obtained a 
situation in the Bank of England, in which his integrity 
and strict attention to business were so conspicuous, as to re- 
commend him strongly to the notice of the Governor, and 
finally led to his being appointed to the office of Chief Teller : 
the more honourable to both parties, inasmuch as Mr. Rhodes 
neither solicited nor expected it. As a still farther testimony of 
the sense entertained of his services, the Bank, after his death, 
which took place Nov. 1, 1826, granted an annuity to his 
widow. 

Mr. Rhodes's private worth and cheerful and obliging dis- 
position, endeared him highly to his friends ; the loss sustained 
by them in his death, is still fresh in their memory, and will 
not soon be forgotten. 

His taste for the Drama led him to form a collection of the 
works of the English dramatists, the most complete that has 
ever been brought together. It was disposed of by auction some 
time previous to his death, and an idea of its extent may be 
formed from the circumstance of its occupying ten days in selling. 

As an Author, the natural turn'of his mind to humour led 
him to the composition of several works of the lighter species 
of poetry : besides Bombastes, he has left behind him two 
other dramatic pieces, neither of which have been acted or 
printed. He also wrote a volume of Epigrams, published with 
his name, in 1803. 

His own opinion of the merits of Bombastes was so modest, 
as to induce him to withhold it from publication, long after it 
had become an established favourite on the stage, nor 
would it probably have appeared at all, but that he felt it 
necessary to vindicate himself from the nonsense and errors 
circulated in the numerous piratical editions. 

The mirth-inspiring pencil of Mr. George Cruikshank, 
seconded by the talents of the Artists whose names grace the 
cuts, enable the Publishers to present once more for Public 
approbation Bombastes Furioso. 

b3 



Dramatis Personce, Costume and Stage Directions. 



Artaxomixous, King of Utopia. — Full dress, court suit, pow- 
dered wig Mr. Mathews. 

Fusbos, Minister of State— The same Mr. Taylor. 

Gexeral Bombastes — A general's military suit, Jack boots, 
comic powdered wig and pigtail, sword and sash, ge- 
neral's hat and plume Mr. Listox. 

Attendants or Courtiers — Full dress court suits. 

Army — A long drummer, a short fifer and two (sometimes 
three) soldiers of different dimensions, all dressed in 
caricature. 

Distaffixa — Coloured chintz gown open in front, crimson ca- 
limanco petticoat, white muslin apron, mob-cap, white 
muslin handkerchief Mrs. Listox. 



R. means Right. — L. Left. — C. Centre. 



Time of representation forty minutes. 



BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 



SCENE I. — Interior of the Palace. 
Artaxominous in his Chair of State; a Table set 
out with Bowls, Glasses, Pipes, fyc. ; Attendants 
on each side. 

Trio.— Tekeli. 

1st Att. What will your Majesty please to wear? 
Or blue, green, red, black, white, or brown ? 
2d Att. D'ye choose to look at the bill of fare ? 
Artax. Get out of my sight, or I'll knock you 

down. 
2d Att. Here is soup, fish, or goose, or duck, or 

fowl, or pigeons, pig, or hare ; 
1st Att. Or blue, or green, or red, or black, or 
white, or brown. 
What will your Majesty, &c. 

Artax. Get out of my sight, &c. 

[Exeunt Attendants. R. 8$ L. 

L. Enter Fusbos, and kneels to the King. 
Fus. Hail, Artaxominous ! ycleped the Great ! 
I come, an humble pillar of thy state, 
Pregnant with news — but ere that news I tell, 
First let me hope your Majesty is well. 

Art. Rise, learned Fusbos ! rise, my friend, and 
know 
We are but middling— that is, but so so. 



8 



BOMEASTES FURIOSO. 



Fus. Only so so! O monstrous, doleful thing! 
Is it the mulligrubs affects the king? 

Or, dropping poisons in the cup of joy, 

Do the blue devils your repose annoy ? 

Art. Nor mulligrubs, nor devils blue, are here, 
But yet we feel ourself a little queer. 

Fus. Yes, I perceive it in that vacant eye, 
The vest unbutton'd, and the wig awry : 
So sickly cats neglect their fur-attire, 
And sit and mope beside the kitchen fire. 

Art. Last night, when undisturb'd by state affairs, 
Moist ning our clay, and puffing off our cares, 
Oft the replenish' d goblet did we drain, 
And drank and smok'd, and smok'd and drank again ; 
Such was the case, our very actions such, 
Until at length we got a drop too much. 

Fus. So when some donkey on the Blackheath 
road 
Falls, overpower'd, beneath his sandy load ; 
The driver's curse unheeded swells the air. 
Since none can carry more than they can bear. 

Art. The sapient Doctor Muggins came in haste, 
Who suits his physic to his patients' taste ; 
He, knowing well on what our heart is set, 
Hath just prescrib'd " to take a morning whet ;" 
The very sight each sick'ning pain subdues, 
Then sit, my Fusbos, sit and tell thy news. 

Fus. ( sits L. of table) Gen'ral Bombastes, whose 
resistless force 
Alone exceeds by far a brewer's horse, 
Returns victorious, bringing mines of wealth ! 

Art. Does he, by jingo? then we'll drink his 
health. [Drum and fife. R. 



BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 11 

Fus. But hark ! with loud acclaim, the fife and 
drum 
Announce your army near ; behold, they come ! 

[Drum and fife beat again, R. 
R. Enter Bombastes, attended by one Drummer, one 
Fifer, and two Soldiers, all very materially dif- 
fering in size. 

Bom. (to Army) Meet me this ev'ning at the 
Barley-Mow ; 
I'll bring your pay, you see I'm busy now : 
Begone, brave army, and don't kick up a row. 

[Exeunt Soldiers. R. 
(to the King) Thrash'd are your foes — this watch 

and silken string, 
Worn by their chief, I as a trophy bring ; 
I knock'd him down, then snatch'd it from his fob ; 
" Watch, watch," he cried, when I had done the job : 
" My watch is gone," says he — says I " Just so ; 
" Stop where you are — watches were made to go." 
Art. For which we make you Duke of Strombelo. 
[Bombastes kneels ; the King dubs him with a 
pipe, and then presents the bowl. 
From our own bowl here drink, my soldier true ; 
And if you'd like to take a whiff or two, 
He whose brave arm hath made our foes to crouch, 
Shall have a pipe from this our royal pouch. 

Bom. (rises) Honours so great have all my toils 
repaid ! 
My Liege, and Fusbos, here's " Success to trade." 

Fus. Well said, Bombastes ! since thy mighty blows 
Have given a quietus to our foes, 
Now shall our farmers gather in their crops, 
And busy tradesmen mind their crowded shops ; 



12 BOMBASTIC I IKioso. 

The deadly havock of war's hatchet ceae 
Now shall we smoke the calumet of peace. 

Art. I shall smoke short-cut, you smoke- what 

you please. 
Bom. Whate'er your Majesty shall deign to name, 
Short cut or long, to me is all the same. 

Bom. & } In shorty so long as we your favours 
Fus. $ claim, 
Short cut or long, to us is all the same. 

Art. Thanks, gen'rous friends ! now list whilst I 
impart 
How firm you're lockd and bolted in my heart : 
So long as this here pouch a pipe contains, 
Or a full glass in that there bowl remains. 
To you an equal portion shall belong ; 
This do I swear, and now — let's have a song. 
Fus. My Liege shall be obey'd. 

[advances and attempts to sing. 
Bom. Fusbos, give place, 

You know you haven't got a singing face ; 
Here, nature smiling, gave the winning grace. 
Song. — Hope told afiattrhig Tale. 

1 . Hope told a flattering tale, 

Much longer than my arm, 
That love and pots of ale 

In peace would keep me warm : 
The flatt'rer is not gone, 
She visits number one : 
In love I'm monstrous deep, 
Love ! odsbobs, destroys my sleep. 

2. Hope told a flattering tale, 

Lest love should soon grow cool ; 
A tub thrown to a whale, 
To make the fish a fool : 



BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 13 

Should Distaffina frown, 

Then love's gone out of town ; 

And when love's dream is o'er, 

Then we wake and dream no more. [Exit. L. 

[The King evinces strong emotions during the 
song, and at the conclusion starts up. 
Fus. What ails my Liege ? ah ! why that look so 

sad ? 
Art. (coming forward) I am in love ! I scorch, I 
freeze, I'm mad ! 

tell me, Fusbos, first and best of friends, 
You, who have wisdom at your fingers' ends, 
Shall it be so, or shall it not be so ? 

Shall I my Griskinissa's charms forego, 
Compel her to give up the regal chair, 
And place the rosy Distaffina there ! 
In such a case, what course can I pursue ? 

1 love my Queen, and Distaffina too. 

Fus. And would a King his General supplant ? 
I can't advise, upon my soul I can't. 

Art. So when two feasts, whereat there's nought 
to pay, 
Fall unpropitious on the self-same day, 
The anxious Cit each invitation views, 
And ponders which to take or which refuse : 
From this or that to keep away is loth, 
And sighs to think he cannot dine at both. [Exit. L. 

Fus. So when some school-boy, on a rainy day 
Finds all his playmates will no longer stay, 
He takes the hint himself — and walks away. 

[Exit. R. 



14 BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 

SCENE II. — Another Apartment in the Palace. 

L. Enter Artaxominous. 
Art. I'll seek the maid I love, though in my way 
A dozen gen'rals stood in fierce array ! 
Such rosy beauties nature meant for kings ; 
Subjects have treat enough to see such things. 

Song. — Paddy 0' Carrol* 
My love is so pretty, 
So lively and witty, 
None in town or in city 

Her hand would disgrace ! 
My lord of the woolsack, 
His coachman would pull back, 
To get a look full smack 



At her pretty face. 



Mathematical teachers, 
Stiff methodist preachers, 
And all the gay creatures 

That run about town. 
Great foreign ambassadors, 
Never can pass her doors, 
But my sweet lass deplores 

So much renown. Fal de ral, &c. 
Though she drives a wheelbarrow, 
Through streets wide and narrow, 
The school-boys from Harrow 

May laugh if they dare. 
Nor tasteful Grassini, 
Nor Billingtonini, 
Divine Catalani. 

With her can compare. 

* This comic song was not written by the author of the piece. 



BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 15 

Nor head with a mitre, 
Nor Belcher the fighter 
Can find out a brighter 

Than my pretty maid. 
But words are mere play-things, 
Neat trim holiday-things, 
They cannot half say things 

Enough for my love. Fal de ral, &c, 
She's young and she's tender, 
She's tall and she's slender, 
As straight as a fender 

From the top to the toe. 
Eyes like stars glittering, 
Mouth always tittering, 
Fingers to fit a ring 

Ne'er were made so. 
Her head like a holly-bow'r, 
Cheeks like a cauliflower 
Nose like a jolly tower 

By the sea-side. 
. Then haste, O ye days and nights, 
That I may taste delights, 
And with church holy rites 

Make her my bride. Fal de ral, &c. [Exit, 



SCENE III.— Inside of a Cottage. 
Enter Distafflna. 
Dis. This morn, as sleeping in my bed I lay, 
I dreamt (and morning dreams come true, they say), 
I dreamt a cunning man my fortune told, 
And soon the pots and pans were turned to gold ! 



1G BOM H AST J S p| RIOSO. 

Then I resolv'd to cut a mighty dash ; 
But, lo ! ere I could turn them into cash, 
Another cunning man my heart betray'd, 
Stole all away, and left my debts unpaid. 

[Enter Artaxominous. L. 
And pray, sir who are you I'd wish to know ? 

Art. Perfection's self ! O smooth that angry brow ! 
For love of thee I've wander'd thro' the town, 
And here have come to offer half a crown. 

Dis. Fellow ! your paltry offer I despise ; 
The great Bombastes' love alone I prize. 

Art. He's but a Gen'ral — damsel, I'm a King ; 

Dis. O Sir ! that makes it quite another thing. 

Art. And think not, maiden, I could e'er design 
A sum so trifling for such charms as thine. 
No ! the half crown that ting'd thy cheeks with red, 
And bade fierce anger o'er thy beauties spread, 
Was meant that thou should'st share my throne and 
bed. 

Dis. (aside) My dream is out, and I shall soon 
behold 
The pots and pans all turn to shining gold. 

Art. (puts his hat down to kneel on) Here on my 
knees (those knees which ne'er till now 
To man or maid in suppliance bent) I vow 
Still to remain, till you my hopes fulfil, 
Fixt as the Monument on Fish-street hill. 

Dis. (kneels) And thus I swear, as I bestow my 
hand, 
As long as e'er the Monument shall stand, 
So long I'm your's 

Art. Are then my wishes crown'd ? 

Dis. La ! Sir, I'd not say no for twenty pound : 



BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 17 

Let silly maids for love their favours yield, 
Rich ones for me — a king against the field. 

Song. — Paddy's Wedding. 

Queen Dido at 

Her palace gate 
Sat darning of her stocking O ; 

She sung and drew 

The worsted through, 
Whilst her foot was the cradle rocking O. 

(For a babe she had 

By a soldier lad, 
Though hist'ry passes it over O ;) 

" You tell tale brat, 

" I've been a flat, 
" Your daddy has proved a rover O. 

" What a fool was I 

" To be cozen'd by 
" A fellow without a penny O ; 

" When rich ones came, 

" And ask'd the same, 
" For I'd offers from never so many O. 

" But I'll darn my hose, 

" Look out for beaus, 
" And quickly get a new lover O ; 

" Then come, lads, come, 

" Love beats the drum, 
" And a fig for iEneas the rover O." 

Art. So Orpheus sung of old, or poets lie, 
And as the Brutes were charm'd, e'en so am I. 
Rosy-cheek'd maid, henceforth my only queen, 
Full soon shalt thou in royal robes be seen ; 

c 3 



18 BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 

And through my realm I'll issue this decree, 
None shall appear of taller growth than thee : 
Painters no other face pourtray — each sign 
O'er alehouse hung shall change its head for thine. 
Poets shall cancel their unpublish'd lays, 
And none presume to write but in thy praise. 

[Distaffina produces a bottle and glass. R. 
Dis. And may I then, without offending, crave 
My love to taste of this, the best I have ? 

Art. Were it the vilest liquor upon earth, 
Thy touch would render it of matchless worth ; 
Dear shall the gift be held that comes from you ; 
Best proof of love, (drinks) 'tis full proof Hodges 

too: 
Through all my veins I feel a genial glow, 

It fires my soul 

Bom. (within. L.) Ho, Distaffina, ho ! 
Art. Heard you that voice ? 
Dis. O yes, 'tis what's his name, 

The General ; send him packing as he came. 

Art. And is it he ? and doth he hither come ? 
Ah me ! my guilty conscience strikes me dumb : 
Where shall I go ? say, whither shall I fly ? 
Hide me, oh hide me, from his injur 'd eye ! 

Dis. Why, sure you're not alarm'd at such a thing ! 
He's but a General, and you're a King. 

[Artax. secretes himself in a closet. R. injlat. 
L. Enter Bombastes. 
Bom. Lov'd Distaffina ! now by my scars I vow, 
Scars got — I haven't time to tell you how ; 
By all the risks my fearless heart hath run, 
Risks of all shapes from bludgeon, sword, and gun ; 
Steel traps, the patrole, bailiff shrewd, and dun ; 



BOMBASTES FU1U0S0. 21 

By the great bunch of laurels on my brow, 
Ne'er did thy charms exceed their present glow ! 
O let me greet thee with a loving kiss — 

\_sees the hat. 
Hell and the devil ! — say who's hat is this ? 

Dis. Why help your silly brains, that's not a hat. 

Bom. No hat? 

Dis. Suppose it is, why what of that ? 

A hat can do no harm without a head ! 

Bom. Whoe'er it fits, this hour I doom him dead ; 
Alive from hence the caitiff shall not stir — 

[discovers the King. 
Your most obedient, humble servant, sir. 

Art. O General, O ! — 

Bom. My much-loved master, O ! 

What means all this ? 

Art. Indeed I hardly know 

Dis. (R.) You hardly know ! — a very pretty joke, 
If kingly promises so soon are broke ! 
Arn't I to be a Queen, and dress so fine ? 

Art. (L.) I do repent me of the foul design ; 
To thee my brave Bombastes I restore 
Pure Distaffina, and will never more 
Through lane or street with lawless passion rove, 
But give to Griskinissa all my love. 

Bom. (C) No, no, I'll love no more ; let him 
who can 
Fancy the maid who fancies ev'ry man. 
In some lone place I'll find a gloomy cave, 
There my own hands shall dig a spacious grave, 
Then all unseen I'll lay me down and die, 
Since woman's constancy is all my eye. 



-2 BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 

Trio. — Lady Fair ! 

Dis. O cruel man ! where are you going ? 

Sad are my wants, my rent is owing. 
Bom. I go, I go, all comfort scorning ; 

Some death I'll die before the morning. 
Dis. Heigh O, Heigh O ! sad is that warning r 

O do not die before the morning! 
Art. I'll follow him, all danger scorning ; 

He shall not die before the morning. 
Bom. I go, I go, &c. 
Dis. Heigh O, Heigh O ! &c. 
Art. I'll follow him, &c. 

[Exeunt. L» 



SCENE IV.— A Wood. 
Enter Fusbos. 

Fus. This day is big with fate : just as I set 
My foot across the threshold, lo ! I met 
A man whose squint terrific struck my view ; 
Another came, and, lo ! he squinted too : 
And ere I'd reach'd the corner of the street, 
Some ten short paces, 'twas my lot to meet 
A third who squinted more — a fourth, and he 
Squinted more vilely than the other three. 
Such omens met the eye when Caesar fell, 
But caution'd him in vain ; and who can tell 
Whether those awful notices of fate 
Are meant for Kings, or Ministers of State ? 
For rich or poor, old, young, or short or tall* 
The wrestler Love trips up the heels of all. 



BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 25 

Song. — My Lodging is on the cold Ground. 

1 . My lodging is in Leather-lane, 

A parlour that's next to the sky ; 
'Tis expos'd to the wind and the rain, 

But the wind and the rain I defy: 
Such love warms the coldest of spots, 

As I feel for Scrubinda the fair ; 
O she lives by the scouring of pots, 

In Dyot-street, Bloomsbury- square. 

2. O was I a quart, pint, or gill, 

To be scrubb'd by her delicate hands, 
Let others possess what they will 

Of learning, and houses, and lands ; 
My parlour that's next to the sky 

I'd quit, her blest mansion to share ; 
So happy to live and to die 

In Dyot-street, Bloomsbury-square. 

3. And O would this damsel be mine, 

No other provision I'd seek ; 
On a look I could breakfast and dine, 

And feast on a smile for a week. 
But, ah ! should she false-hearted prove, 

Suspended, I'll dangle in air ; 
A victim to delicate love, 

In Dyot-street, Bloomsbury-square. [Exit. L. 
Enter Bombastes,* preceded by a Fifer, playing 

" Michael Wiggins" 
Bom. Gentle musician, let thy dulcet strain 
Proceed — play Michael Wiggins once again, — 
Music's the food of love ; give o'er, give o'er, 
For I must batten on that food no more.[Exit Fifer. 

* The remainder of the part of Bombastes in this scene is 
sometimes performed in a morning-gown and slippers. 

D 



26 BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 

My happiness is chang'd to doleful dumps, 
Whilst, merry Michael, all thy cards were trumps. 
So, should some youth by fortune's blest decrees 
Possess at least a pound of Cheshire cheese, 
And bent some favour'd party to regale, 
Lay in a kilderkin, or so, of ale ; 
Lo ! angry fate, in one unlucky hour 
Some hungry rats may all the cheese devour, 
And the loud thunder turn the liquor sour. 

[Forms his sash into a noose, 
Alas ! alack ! alack! and well-a-day, 
That ever man should make himself away ; 
That ever man for woman false should die, 

As many have, and so, and so wont I ; 

No, I'll go mad ! 'gainst all I'll vent my rage, 
And with this wicked wanton world a woful war I'll 
wage. 
[Hangs his boots to the arm of a tree, and, taking 
a scrap of paper, with a pencil writes the fol- 
lowing couplet, which he attaches to them, re- 
peating the words 
" Who dares this pair of boots displace, 
" Must meet Bombastes face to face." 
Thus do I challenge all the human race. 

[Draws his sword, and retires up the stage, 
L. Enter Artaxominous. 
Art. Scorning my proffer'd hand he frowning fled, 
Curs'd the fair maid, and shook his angry head. 

[Perceives the boots and label, 
" Who dare this pair of boots displace, 
" Must meet Bombastes face to face." 
Ha! dost thou dare me, vile obnoxious elf; 
I'll make thy threats as bootless as thyself : 



EOMBASTES FURIOSO. 2\) 

Where'er thou art, with speed prepare to go 
Where I shall send thee — to the shades below ! 

[Knocks down the boots. 

Bom. (coming forward) So have I heard on Afric's 
burning shore, 
A hungry lion give a grievous roar : 
The grievous roar echo'd along the shore. 

Art. So have I heard on Afric's burning shore 
Another lion give a grievous roar, 
And the first lion thought the last a bore. 

Bom. Am I then mock'd ? Now by my fame I swear 
You shall soon have it- There ! \_They fight. 

Art. Where ? 

Bom. There and there. 

Art. I have it sure enough — Oh ! I am slain, 
I'd give a pot of beer to live again ; 
Yet, ere I die, I something have to say : 
My once lov'd Gen'ral, prithee come this way ! 
Oh ! Oh ! my Bom [Falls on his bach. 

Bom. bastes he would have said : 

But ere the word was out his breath was fled. 
Well, peace be with him, his untimely doom 
Shall thus be mark'd upon his costly tomb : — 
" Fate cropt him short — for be it understood, 
" He would have liv'd much longer — if he could." 
[Retires again up the stage. 

Enter Fusbos. 

Fus. This was the way they came, and much, I fear, 
There's mischief in the wind — what have we here ? 
King Artaxominous bereft of life ! 
Here'U be a pretty tale to tell his wife. 

d 3 



lA) BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 

Bom. A pretty tale, but not for thee to tell, 
For thou shalt quickly follow him to hell ; 
There say I sent thee, and I hope he's well. 

Fus. No, thou thyself shalt thy own message bear ; 
Short is the journey, thou wilt soon be there. 

[They fight. 

Duett. — WeipperVs Fancy.* 
Bom. I'll quickly run you through, 

Fus. No hang me if you do, 

I think I know a trick can equal two of that ; 
My sword I well can use, 
So mind your P's and Q's : 
Bom. I thank you, Sir, but I must caution you of 
that. 

(Lord Cathcarfs Favourite). 
Fus. Tis a pleasure to fight 

With a man so polite, 
Then hear in return what I'll do, Sir ; 

I'll take down aught you'll say 

In the will-making way, 
And be your Executor too, Sir. 
Bom. O, Sir, there's no need 

For so friendly a deed, 
But I hope for yourself you're provided ; 

Since your worldly affairs 

Will devolve to your heirs, 
As soon as the point is decided, 

Then come on while you can, 

Meet your fate like a man — 
Bombastes shall ne'er be derided. 

* This duet is sometimes omitted. 



BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 33 

Bom. O Fusbos, Fusbos, I am diddled quite, 
Dark clouds come o'er my eyes, farewell, good night ! 
Good night ! my mighty soul's inclin'd to roam, 
So make my compliments to all at home. 

[Lies down by the King. 

Fus. And o'er thy grave a monument shall rise, 
Where heroes yet unborn shall feast their eyes ; 
And this short Epitaph that speaks thy fame, 
Shall also there immortalize my name : — 
" Here lies Bombastes stout of heart and limb, 
" Who conquer'd all but Fusbos — Fusbos him." 

L. Enter Distaffina. 

Dis. Ah, wretched maid! O miserable fate! 
I've just arriv'd in time to be too late : 
What now shall hapless Distaffina do ? 
Curse on all morning dreams, they come so true. 

Fus. Go, beauty, go, thou source of woe to man, 
And get another lover where you can : 
The crown now sits on Griskinissa's head ; 
To her I'll go 

Dis. But are you sure they're dead ? 

Fus. Yes, dead as herrings — herrings that are red. 

FINALE. 

Dis. Briny tears I'll shed, 

Art, I for joy shall cry too : 

Fus. Zounds ! the King's alive ; 

Bom. Yes, and so am I too. 

Dis. It was better far 

Art. Thus to check all sorrow ; 

Fus. But, if some folks please, 

Bom. We'll die again to-morrow. 



34 



BOMBASTES FURIOSO. 



Dis. Tu ral, lu ral, la, 
Art. Tural, lural, laddi; 

Fus. Tu ral, lu ral, la, 
Bom. Tu ral, lu ral, laddi. 

[They take hands and dance round, repeating 




Printed by Lowndes and White, 
Crane Court, Fleet Street. 



IN THE PRESS. 

TOM THUMB, 

WITH 

ILLUSTRATIONS BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. 



IN ACTIVE PREPARATION. 

THE MAYOR OF GARRATT. 

THE BEGGAR'S OPERA. 

HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 

THE CRITIC. 

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THE DEVIL TO PAY. 

THE MOCK DOCTOR, 

THE TAILORS, a Tragedy for warm Weather. 

THE VILLAGE LAWYER. 

THE WEATHERCOCK. 

&c. &c. &c. 

T. RODD has constantly on Sale a large collection of tt 
Works of the English Dramatists and Books coi 
nected with the Stage. — A list may be had gratis. 

Recently published, a second Catalogue of Books for th 
Year 1830, on sale by T. Rodd. 



LOWNDES AND WHITE, CRANE COURT, FLEET STREET. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





014 527 172 1 



